


Haaaaaaaave You Met Stiles?

by SassyStarboard



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorable Derek Hale, Adorable Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Attempt at Humor, Background Laura Hale, Comfort No Hurt, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski are Neighbors, Derek Hale Has a Crush on Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is a Softie, EMT Derek Hale, Erica Reyes is a Little Shit, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hospitals, M/M, Married Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, No Angst, Pining Derek Hale, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Socially Awkward Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27338248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyStarboard/pseuds/SassyStarboard
Summary: Stiles’ new apartment neighbor has the world's loudest alarm and the world’s hottest ass. Derek has an adorably huge crush on his floormate. Melissa tries to set Derek up with her step-son Stiles but Derek is hung up on his adorable next door neighbor.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Erica Reyes, Derek Hale & Melissa McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Melissa McCall & Stiles Stilinski, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Vernon Boyd & Derek Hale & Isaac Lahey & Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 19
Kudos: 604





	Haaaaaaaave You Met Stiles?

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from "How I Met Your Mother", where Barney plays a game called “have you met Ted” to introduce his friend Ted to attractive women. I love Pining Derek and thought him meeting Stiles like this would be cute! Also I am 83% sure this is not how people with night jobs set their alarms but bear with me. Lmk what you think in the comments!!

Stiles buried his face in his pillow, desperate to block out the deafening blare of his neighbors alarm. At 4:13 AM. On a Friday. On Tuesday, the alarm had gone off at 3:37 AM. On Saturday, it had gone off at ten o’clock at night, then again at two o’clock in the morning. There appeared to be no rhyme or reason to the sequence besides driving Stiles insane, and he absolutely could not take it anymore. _No more_.

Groaning loudly—both to emphasize his dismay and because he’d banged his arm on the wall trying to sit up in the dark—Stiles swung his legs over the edge of his bed. The hardwood floor was freezing, and—not for the first time—Stiles wished he’d had the presence of mind to buy a thick rug when he had gone furniture shopping for the cramped, one bedroom apartment. 

On the other side of the wall, the alarm continued. The noise seemed to grow louder by the second, and Stiles was starting to think his new neighbor must be either Batman or some sort of emergency firefighter, because Stiles did not want to meet whoever the fuck else would have such a god-awful alarm system. It was a real shame, too. New Guy was _criminally_ hot. Tragically, now that Stiles knew what an asshole this guy was, he wouldn’t be touching that perfect ass with a ten foot pole.

Maybe it wouldn’t seem so bad if Stiles didn’t miss Laura so desperately. Laura, Stiles’ last neighbor, had been perfect—a total badass who watches baseball with you _and_ makes you test out new menu items for her bakery? Yes, please. Unfortunately for Stiles, said bakery had grown so successful in the past year that Laura had finally been able to purchase the apartment above it. Laura had moved out a month ago, and had lied straight to Stiles’ face about the quality of the man she was allowing to inherit her apartment. _You’ll love the new tenant Stiles, I swear. Love him_ . No. Stiles had loved Laura. What Stiles did not love was this ridiculous alarm situation because _the noise_. Holy hell, the noise.

Grumbling, Stiles shoved on his Chewbacca slippers and grabbed a random tshirt off the floor in the dark. Crossing his apartment, he barely stopped himself from slamming his door on the way out, ranting furiously to himself inside his head. _He’s Batman. He has to be Batman—no, he’d_ **_better_ ** _be fucking Batman because that’s the only possible explanation besides serial killer and I am_ **_not_ ** _living next to serial killer. Oh god, what if I die tonight? What if he really is a serial killer and the alarm is one of his serial killer friends telling him they’re all about to go murder someone and he opens the door holding an axe and—_

Stiles’ hand was raised to knock on the door when it swung open of its own accord.

Immediately, Stiles was horrified. 

Hot Neighbor was an emergency responder. Hot Neighbor opened the door halfway dressed in work clothes and Stiles’ sleep deprived brain took an uncomfortably long time to connect Hot Neighbor’s giant medical bag, chunky steel-toed boots, and collared uniform jacket unmistakably emblazoned with the Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital logo with _paramedic._ And he looked _pissed._ Oh god. Paramedic. Hot Neighbor was a paramedic. Stiles just stomped over in the middle of the night to _curse out a_ **_paramedic_ ** _, oh my god, oh my god—_

“What?” Hot Neighbor snapped at him, very obviously in a hurry.

Stiles flailed backwards, panicking. “Uh—nothing! Wrong number! I-I mean, uh, wrong _door_! Sorry! Carry on!”

Stiles hurriedly stepped backwards, because Hot Neighbor’s alarm was for getting up at zero-dark-thirty and saving people and babies and kittens from fiery burning car accidents and he looked _angry_. Scowling, the man locked his door with practiced efficiency before shoving past Stiles to jog towards the elevator, shouldering his large medical bag like it weighed nothing. Stiles resolutely did not watch his ass, focused instead on absolutely fucking dying of humiliation. 

_ohmygodohmygodohmygodFUCK._ Stiles groaned, the back of his brain distantly hearing the elevator doors close. He waited until he was sure the man was completely gone before hanging his head and whining pathetically at the hall carpet. 

“ _Oh, sorry, wrong number, my bad Mr.Paramedic_ —Jesus Stilinski, you’ve gotta be shitting me.” Stiles grumbled, fumbling with the door to get back into his apartment.

 _Paramedic_.

 _Fuck_.

* * *

“He was just standing there?”

Boyd frowns, peeling off his gloves and tossing them into the trash can. There’s four of them in the empty hospital room this morning. They’re taking inventory of their equipment, sanitizing everything they’ve got so they can get out of their medical gear. Derek pulls off his own gloves with a sigh, sanitizing his hands then grabbing a rag out of his bag to clean off his face.

“Yes.” Derek groans into the cloth. “I’ve been trying to talk to him for _weeks_ , Boyd. So what does he do? He shows up outside my apartment at 2:30 in the morning when I look like complete shit and _he_ looks fucking perfect. I am never going to recover from this.”

“For _once_ , Derek.” Erica drops into a chair and yanks off her boots, wiggling her toes before pulling on a pair of sparkling silver Uggs. “For once, I’d like to talk about something other than the endless supply of sunshine that sparkles out of your neighbor’s ass.”

“Shut up.” Derek snaps at her. “Like your crush on Boyd wasn’t ten times worse.”

“At least _Boyd_ had the balls to put a ring on it, loser!” Erica fires back, leaping up from her chair to kiss her fiancé on the cheek as she flips him off with her ring fingers. Boyd grins, and doesn’t even have the decency to look the slightest bit terrified when Derek glares at them.

“C’mon, man. It can’t be that bad.” Isaac tries, tucking his glucometer kit back into the inner pocket of his pack. “You were bound to talk to him eventually, I’m sure it’ll be fine. I mean, _he’s_ cute, _you’re_ . . . ” Isaac stops when Derek gives him a withering look of despair. “. . . probably not a murderer but if you look at him like that, he’ll definitely think so. _Jesus_ , Hale.”

Erica cackles, catching sight of Derek’s face as she puts away her blood pressure cuff. “Damn. Might wanna try your luck with Melissa’s kid, if that’s the way you looked at Skywalker this morning.”

“Seriously?” Derek rolls his eyes as he cleans off his trauma shears. “I told you to quit calling him that. It’s not my fault everything he owns is _Star Wars_ merchandise. And what the hell does this have to do with Scott? Who’s _straight_ and _married_ , by the way? Or maybe the thousands of Allison texts he’s spammed Isaac with escaped your notice.”

“ _So_ much detail.” Isaac shudders. Boyd pats him on the shoulder, sympathetic.

“Not Scott, Der.” Erica returns Derek’s eye roll as she repacks her bag. “The other one . . . Stan? Steve?”

“No.” Boyd shakes his head. “Too normal. It’s something weird.”

“Stilinski.” Isaac says. “Melissa got remarried to the Sheriff, you’re talking about her _step_ -son.”

“Stiles!” Erica bursts out, triumphant. Boyd winces slightly as she yells—Erica’s standing right next to his ear. Erica catches this and rubs the back of his neck in apology.

“What does he have to do with this?” Derek frowns.

“Uh, nothing, except that Melissa’s been trying to hook you guys up since you moved back here.” Erica says pointedly. Derek makes a face, because—like the others—he sees Melissa as a maternal figure. He trusts her judgement, wholeheartedly so, but the thought of her _hooking him up_ with anyone feels . . . weird.

“No she hasn’t.” Derek says. Boyd snorts under his breath, all but dying of laughter. Clearly Derek’s missed something crucial.

“ _Dude_.” Isaac scoffs, slinging his bag over his shoulder. The other three do the same, and they all push through the double doors of the room to make their way out. It’s 7am, and Laura will only give them free food if they get to her bakery before the morning rush. A solid business move on her part, because they almost never make it.

“Don’t call me dude.” Derek says gruffly. He’s still upset about being an asshole to ~~Skywalker~~ his neighbor ~~last night~~ this morning and none of them are letting him brood.

“Newsflash, _dude_.” Erica bounds up beside him and pokes him in the cheek before Derek can bat her hand away. “Melissa’s been talking this guy up to you for a month.”

“No, she hasn’t.” Derek insists, though maybe she has but Derek’s too tired to think about anything but chocolate chip cinnamon rolls right now. “She hasn’t. I would know.”

“ _I have a son who’s about your age Derek, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere_ .” Erica says loftily. “ _Have you met Stiles yet, Derek? His fifth grade class just held their winter science fair last weekend. Stiles is so sweet, Derek. Have you seen_ —wow Derek, I bet Stiles would love that vein in your forehead, it’s a real prize winner.”

“Get fucked.” Derek tells her. There’s not much heat behind it, but Erica gasps theatrically anyways, her hand flying up to clutch at imaginary pearls.

“She has.” Isaac says. “Been talking him up. You’ve just been tuning it out so you can mope over Skywalker.”

“It’s not moping. I don’t mope.” Derek tries not to sound like a whiny teenager. He’s exhausted and he doesn’t mask it well.

“Bullshit.” Boyd tells him. Derek glowers at him.

“Eh.” Erica says. “Is it really moping if he’s only spoken to him once?”

“I _wish_ I could get a chance to speak to him.” Derek huffs. “I haven’t even gotten _that_ far.”

“You said you talked to him this morning.” Boyd frowns.

“No.” Derek scowls. “I was on my way here but on the way out, I opened the door to his stupid perfect face and just stood there while he talked _at_ me.”

“He was already standing there?” Erica purses her lips in thought, frowning. 

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I wish I knew.” Derek huffs. “Maybe then I’d be less—"

“Pissy?” Isaac offers. Derek shoots him a cutting look.

“Wait.” Erica considers this. “Is the alarm you use now the same one you used when you lived with Boyd?”

“Yes? And?” Derek scowls at her as he readjusts his bag. “Do I have a magical, twink-summoning alarm clock? Is that what you’re asking?” Isaac snorts.

“Shut up, asshole.” Erica smacks Derek with her jacket. “You took Laura’s old apartment, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Well there you go.” She says. Derek, Boyd, and Isaac clearly don’t understand— _ugh, men_ —so Erica maturely pouts her lips and talks in a slow voice. “Thin walls make big noisy-noisy.”

Derek frowns, gears turning in his head. Does Erica think . . . oh. _Oh shit._ “But . . . no, but it’s not even a real alarm. It’s my phone ringing with the loudest notification setting so I won’t miss any calls from the hospital. He shouldn’t be able to hear that. You think he can hear it through the walls?”

“The entire hallway can probably hear it, sweetie.” Erica tells him. “Maybe try using a normal phone alarm like a regular person before someone calls the police on you.”

“What?” Derek wants to go to sleep and never wake up. If Erica’s right, his sleeping habits have utterly destroyed his chances with ~~Skywalker~~ his neighbor. “No. He can’t . . . no. If it was bothering him, he would’ve said something by now.”

“Probably what he was trying to do this morning, dumbass.” Erica says pointedly. “Why else would anyone want to see your face at the ass-crack of dawn?”

“You _are_ incredibly approachable.” Boyd tells him, the barest hint of a smirk on his face. Isaac snickers.

“Shut up.” Derek fires back. Erica laughs, because Derek reacting to their teasing with the insufferable attitude of a middle child will never not be funny.

Erica takes Boyd’s hand in hers, swinging it back and forth unnecessarily high. Boyd grins and lets her. Derek huffs and moves out of swinging range. He tunes them out, losing himself in thinking back to this morning. His thoughts take him through the rest of their walk, and it takes Isaac nudging him in the side for Derek to realize they’ve made it down the stairs and into the main lobby. 

All four of them are starving, and Derek smells Melissa’s Chinese takeout before he sees it. For anyone else it would be too early for something like that, but when you work an 11pm to 7am shift, the social boundaries of dining etiquette tend to lose meaning. Maybe this time she’ll let them have her extra egg tarts. Melissa always insists the portions are too big for her, but Derek thinks she just wants to make sure they’re all getting something to eat. Melissa is coming off the end of a night shift as well, and Derek hears her sigh as he comes around the corner. 

“How did I get a son like you, huh?”

“By marrying my dad? Hell of a _buy-one-get-one-free_ offer, if you ask me.” A voice Derek doesn’t have the energy to recognize responds to her, light and teasing.

“That’s right. Mama knows a deal when she sees one.”

“Ha! Speaking of deals—”

Derek and the others made it to the front desk just in time to see Melissa and a young man—presumably the step-son they’d all heard so much about—high-five each other over the top of a takeout bag. Then the guy turns to the side to lean against the front desk. Derek freezes in his tracks, immediately flustered because _this can’t be happening_.

“—with the orange chicken instead, because they had a thing going where if you get the orange chicken then they give you a free side so I got you some extra egg rolls cause I know you like to feed your little ambulance worker buddies and _everybody_ likes egg rolls, right?”

There, six feet away from Derek in the middle of Derek’s place of work, is Derek’s gorgeous next door neighbor.

Melissa was right. Stiles _is_ his type.

Unfortunately, Stiles is wearing a soft blue flannel over a t-shirt screen-printed with a Luke Skywalker poster. It’s the worst possible shirt he could have shown up wearing and Derek has to get Erica and the others out of here before they embarrass him to an early grave. He can deal with Stiles when he gets home.

Derek picks up his pace, planning to usher them all out the door on the premise of getting to Laura’s before she opens because he can _not_ talk to Stiles like this. But he’s too slow. And to Derek’s utter horror, Melissa’s face lights up as soon as she lays eyes on them.

“Derek!” Melissa waves them over. “Derek, have you met Stiles? Come say hi!”

Stiles turns away from Melissa to follow her gaze. It almost feels like it’s happening to him in slow-motion, and Derek can pinpoint the exact moment Stiles recognizes him because his easy grin slips off his face, his eyebrows shooting so far up they nearly disappear into his hairline.

“Gosh, they must’ve doubled my order again. You kids want any of this?” Melissa turns, throwing a wink at Stiles. She thinks she’s subtle. Mercifully, Erica and Isaac forget about them completely in favor of diving straight for the egg rolls. Boyd pauses for a moment, then nods and claps Derek on the shoulder before joining the fray.

Derek hasn’t moved. And now Stiles isn’t moving either. But something has to be done before their silence attracts the attention of the others, so Derek warily steps forward.

“I want to—”

“I didn’t know—”

They stop. Stiles is biting his lip, probably a nervous habit, but seeing it is more of a turn-on than a comfort and now Derek doesn’t trust himself to speak first. Derek gestures for Stiles to go ahead.

“I didn’t know you were a paramedic.” Stiles says, his hands twisting inside the pockets of his hoodie. “M’sorry for, for interrupting your, um, exit routine? Also if I had known you worked here too then I totally would have brought you food. Too. To apologize. Sorry about that.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. Thought, I also want to apologize.” Derek says. “Both for being rude to you this morning and for—”

“Oh my god, you’re Skywalker!” Erica squeals at them through a mouthful of chicken.

Stiles freezes, obviously confused. As he should be. “Um, what?”

“Your shirt.” Derek says quickly. “She likes your shirt.”

“Oh, thanks.” Stiles grins. Erica starts chewing faster so she can explain herself using legible words, but Derek starts in before she can say anything.

“Come to breakfast with us.” Derek says. “My sister owns a bakery in the center of town, _Glaze Maze_? She lets us eat for free if we get there before she opens.”

“Dude!” Stiles grins. “I love Laura! She’s the best! Wait, oh my god, _duh_. You live in her apartment, of course she’s your sister. Wow, I totally see it now too, you guys have the exact same cheekbones.” Stiles impulsively reaches out but cuts himself off halfway to Derek’s face. “Sorry. But yeah, I would love to come to breakfast with . . . all of you guys.”

“Well,” Derek pauses, scratching the back of his neck, “if breakfast doesn’t work for you, we could . . . we could try dinner. Are you free tomorrow night?”

Stiles beams at him. It’s absolutely stunning, and Derek barely restrains himself from kissing Stiles right there in the middle of the hospital lobby. 

“Yes.” Stiles nods, grinning. “Yes, I am definitely free for dinner.”

“Great.” Derek says softly. His chest feels warm and light, the tension from this morning completely gone. He’s already thinking of places he can take Stiles—that nice French place on the edge of town could be good, or maybe they could stop at that cute little dinner near the sheriff’s station—but suddenly his mind conjures the mental image of Stiles drinking a milkshake out of a straw and Derek has to bite the inside of his cheek to refocus on their conversation.

“Awesome.” Stiles breathes. He’s biting his lip again and Derek doesn’t think he can take much more of this.

“Get it, Hale!” Erica’s leaning against the front desk with waggling eyebrows. Isaac looks ashamed to be associated with her. Boyd watches Erica with amusement, looking a little bit impressed. Melissa, on the other hand, doesn’t seem the least bit surprised. Then—

“You know them?” Stiles says to Derek, his eyes wide. Derek glances past him, where his best friends are eating Melissa’s egg tarts and blatantly listening to their conversation. Melissa gives them a thumbs-up. Stiles grins and returns the gesture. Erica sees Melissa’s thumbs-up and shoots Derek finger guns.

“Unfortunately.” Derek replies. 

“I resent that,” Erica points an accusing finger at them, “and don’t think for a second that your little dinner date will get you two out of coming with us to Laura’s. Derek’s the one who gets us our discount and I _needs_ my chocolate chip cinnamon rolls.”

Stiles’ eyes go wide. “Oh, we gotta _go_ . I am _not_ missing out on Laura’s baking skills.”

He takes Derek’s hand—causing Derek to nearly trip over the hospital welcome mat—then turns to wave goodbye to Melissa before pulling Derek out towards the parking lot. The other three race to catch up, and when they pass Derek and Stiles, Derek’s car keys are snatched out of his hand.

“You’ll thank me later!” Erica calls, darting straight out to Derek’s Camaro.

“I should warn you,” Derek says, “there’s a chance they think they’re invited to our date.”

“Better find a kid-friendly restaurant then.” Stiles nods seriously, watching as Derek’s friends lovingly and considerately steal his car. Derek laughs.

“So, breakfast?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Remind me,” Derek says, “have you met Cora?”

**Author's Note:**

> I think "twink-summoning alarm clock" might be my favorite thing that I've ever written, lol!! Did anyone have a favorite line? Anyone hoping for a follow-up/sequel? Let me know! :)


End file.
